More than the Sea
by Curiosity
Summary: Just after Elizabeth has impulsively accepted the Commodore’s proposal in CotBP, they have a discussion about conditions in true repressed English fashion… at least at first, anyway.


Title: Accepting the Proposal Remix: More Than the Sea

Author: artemismuse

Pairing: Norribeth

Rating: a lewd PG13

Notes: I stole this idea from watching the deleted scenes on POTC: CotBP (and one bit from the blooper reel) and thinking, what if she'd been sincere in accepting the proposal instead of being a cruel, conniving, horrid bitch? This one plus Choosing a Side are becoming a series of "what if" moments from each film, which means I still have to write one for DMC… any ideas?

Summary: Just after Elizabeth has impulsively accepted the Commodore's proposal, they have a discussion about conditions in true repressed English fashion… at least at first, anyway.

More than the Sea

"Elizabeth." James Norrington gallantly offers his arm, and they walk together as if they are two lovers strolling down a promenade, instead of rocking about on a ship where Elizabeth is sopping wet and far less than fully clothed. The cold salt wind whips her hair about her face and she shivers, prompting him to drape his coat around her shoulders.

"Better?"

"Much, thank you," she says stiffly, waiting for him to continue their discourse. He takes a breath, weighing his words before he speaks.

"I am concerned that your answer was perhaps— less than sincere."

"I would not give my word lightly." She is hurt by his accusation. Perhaps she came across as impetuous when she said yes?

"Yes, I understand, but is it so wrong that I should want it given unconditionally?" He sounds frustrated.

"It is not a condition, it is a request. Only a request. Your answer does not change mine." His brow is furrowed. Elizabeth senses his uncertainty, so she adds, feelingly, "You are a fine man, James." He opens under her praise, and she sees the young man beneath all the reserve and brocade: a man in love.

"Well. Very well. Excellent." He smiles in pure pleasure, then sobers. "I know you—care— for the blacksmith—" The words taste sour in his mouth.

"He rescued me," she says simply. "I feel I am in his debt."

"I will do everything in my power—"

"I know. But truly, our wedding will be gift enough. I will be proud to be your wife, James." His face outshines the sun; it's so bright and full of warmth. He feels as if his heart will shatter from the joy soon to be his.

"I look forward to the day when I may call you by that name." It has been a very English courtship, Elizabeth thinks: full of stiffness, repression and propriety. She wants to see that front crack, just a little, and get at the man straining against society's restrictions for expressing his feelings.

"James— now that we are to be married…" He smiles again. He cannot hold it back, and Elizabeth smiles in return to see him so happy. She licks her lips experimentally and watches him swallow, his hands clenching as his eyes follow her mouth, her tongue. She looks up at him.

"I have never been kissed. I am anxious to know the kiss of the man I love, who is soon to be my husband."

"The man you love?" He stares at her, hardly daring to believe it. He was so sure she cared for Turner.

"Yes, James," she says steadily. She loves saying his name. "Or did you think I was marrying you for the financial security and prestige of your position?"

"For how long," he whispers, wanting to hear her say it again.

"Ever since you taught me about the sea. The two of you are connected in my mind, you and the sea. I am happiest on board a ship, surely you've noticed."

"I always thought it was due to your lifelong infatuation with pirates," he says with a wry grin.

"Only partly. Knowing the sea was the same color as your eyes, being in love with you… that was the other part."

"Oh, Elizabeth… how I have longed to hear those words…" He breaks off, overcome by emotion. "I will do my best to be worthy of you."

"You could start by kissing me," she reminds him playfully.

"With all my heart." His kiss is tentative at first, as if he fears to frighten her. He treats her as a fragile thing close to breaking, but she parts her lips under his kiss and winds her arms about his neck and he crushes her to him, a dam inside him breaking somewhere, forgetting to be gentle. He only knows that this forbidden country is now his to explore, his to claim, and he does, passionately. When they finally come up for air, his initial instinct is to put space between them and the boundaries back in place. He starts to apologize, but Elizabeth puts a finger to his lips and keeps him close.

"I think I'm going to like being married to you."

"I devoutly hope so." She should leave him to his ship and his duties, she knows, but a wicked idea has taken hold of her, and she has to push him just a bit further off-balance. She likes seeing James this way.

"About the wedding night," she says innocently, and watches him color. "Do I need to find something to wear?" She lowers her voice to a whisper. "Or will it be bare breasts and ankles all the way?" She lets him stammer for a moment, then says, "I'll let you think about it," and sweeps away, still wearing his coat.

James corners her later that night when her father has gone below-deck and the crew is otherwise occupied, his look feverish, and his wig askew.

"Your wig…" She starts to reach up to correct it, but he grabs her by the wrist. He is hot to the touch.

"Leave it." Her eyes widen. "I will have you know, Elizabeth Swann, that you are a witch and a temptress, and I could think of nothing else all day— my men assuredly noticed me neglecting my duties, when all I could picture was you in my bed…" He is breathing hard. "Ankles all the way indeed…"

"Why, Commodore! I've never seen this side of you before." She pauses to assess the damage she has done. "It becomes you. I'll remember what not to buy for the wedding, then?"

"You do that," he says raggedly, and she kisses him, leaving traces of her sweetness on his lips long after she has said "Goodnight, James," and gone to bed. He wonders just how soon one can arrange a marriage. He recalls what she said to him just before she went: "I can only hope for a short betrothal and a long marriage."

James Norrington does not sleep that night; he stands on the deck in the moonlight, ghosts of smiles passing over his face and groans escaping his lips, and he is thankful that Governer Swann is not there to see the savage to whom he is giving his daughter.

Elizabeth is similarly sleepless. She understand Juliet's predicament with the mansion of love she has bought but not yet possessed, and she hopes they find Will Turner soon. She stares out her cabin window at the black waves of the ocean, touching her lips and thinking of James and the tumultuous passion he has shown her he is capable of tonight, and she loves him more than anything. More than freedom. More than the sea.


End file.
